Flower Girls
by Youhaveabadconnection
Summary: Kyle gets used to the BAU, especially Reid. But when an UnSub in Maine starts leaving "gifts" with his victims, can they trust each other enough to catch him?
1. Poems and Pasts

_This is the second story in this arc, and it's waaay better written. When I'm done this one, I might go and rewrite Independence Day, cuz it was pretty terrible. You probably should go read it, it's fairly short._

_Remember, I own nothing except Kyle, the plot, and other things unrecognised from music, movies, books, or Criminal Minds._

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Three months.

Kyle Valentine had been a part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit for three months. During that time she'd joked with Penelope Garcia, flirted with Derrick Morgan, gone for drinks with Emily Prentiss, and met Will and Henry. In some ways, she seemed part of the family, but she knew they didn't fully trust her yet. Not that she blamed them. She was 23, hardly an age which promoted experience.

Valentine sighed, and rubbed a hand over her face. She'd shown up for work at six this morning, and most of the lights in the bullpen were now already off. She leaned back and rolled her shoulders; it had been a long day. At least it was Friday, and they weren't on call this weekend. She smiled to herself, as she logged off her computer. She leaned into a desk drawer, and pulled out a small notebook. Inside was a list of things she planned to do this weekend. On it were things like curtains, and finding a couch, she was sick of all the chairs. Maybe she'd even splurge and get a La-Z-Boy; she missed the one at her dad's. But tonight was going to be spent with her old movie collection and take-out.

Kyle grabbed her bag and headed for the elevators. She punched the "down button" and waited patiently, still looking at her list.

That was how Spencer Reid found her as the elevator dinged and opened its doors. She looked up at his approach and smiled. He smiled back, rather nervously, and hit the button for the below ground garage.

"What are you up to this weekend?" Valentine asked.

Reid shook his head. "Nothing, as usual. I'll work on my Philosophy degree."

Valentine looked up at him. "You wouldn't happen to know where I can find most of the things on my list, do you?"

Reid glanced at it, and thought for a second, his brow creasing slightly. "There's a new mall on 18th street that does all sorts of house stuff, you could probably find what you're looking for there."

Kyle smiled up at him. _She lights up a room with that smile,_ Reid thought. He was brought out of his reverie by the ding of the elevator. He was headed towards his car, when Valentine called out to him.

"Do you want to go for supper with me?" Reid looked back at her, and she blushed. "Not as a date, just a friendly supper."

"Sure," Reid replied, surprising himself. "Do we want to go together?"

Valentine shrugged. "If we do, we'll have to go in your car; I've got my bike here today and I don't have a spare helmet with me."

Reid nodded, and waited for her to catch up to him. He led the way to a PT Cruiser. Kyle smiled when she saw the dark green colour, it suited him. He opened her door then walked around to his side. Pulling the car out of the garage, he hit a button, and the top rolled down. Valentine sighed as the wind played with the fringe of her short hair.

"Where do you want to go?" Spencer asked as he turned onto the freeway. It was a beautiful day in fall, Halloween was only a few weeks away and Quantico was a riot of autumn colours.

Kyle shrugged, "anyplace you choose is fine with me, I'm not fussy."

Spencer chuckled as he hooked a left onto a smaller street, obviously heading for somewhere in particular. "So what did the impulse of asking me for supper pull you away from?" He stopped at a red, then turned down a one-way, into what seemed to be the industrial part of town.

"Not much, just a date with Rhett and Scarlett, or maybe Julian Carter and Vicky Page, I hadn't decided yet. Oh, and some really good take-out food." She snorted, "Really, you're doing me a favour by letting me out of the house without getting lost. I can find my way around a forest without a compass no problem, but put me into an urban setting and I'm totally confused." Kyle stopped as they stopped in front of what appeared to be an old warehouse. "What is this place?"

Spencer looked embarrassed, "it's called Yeats' Place. It's a cafe where young artists can come show their work, and it's open mike night tonight. I noticed a book of poetry in your overnight bag; I thought you might enjoy this."

Kyle grinned. "It sounds awesome! I didn't know Quantico had a place like this." She followed Spencer through the entrance into a single large room. The walls were brick and construction metal, and the bar on her left was made entirely out of what looked to be old car parts. The whole place had and industrial feel, with the ducts open to the room. At the far end was a stage with mikes and what seemed to be a decent sound system, to her inexperienced eye. Spencer led her through the crowded room to a small table next to the wall opposite the bar, which was covered in artwork. She looked at the different pieces, with the names of the artists underneath.

A young woman walked up to the table and handed them small menus and took drink orders. As she walked back to the bar, a very obese man stood up at the mike on the stage. He began an introduction of the open mike, Spencer turned to her. "You said you knew your way around a forest fairly well, where did you grow up?"

Kyle sighed softly. _Here goes,_ she thought. "Until I was eight years old, I lived in Juneau, Alaska. The winter after my birthday, my mother was murdered. She was killed by Orville Pederson." She watched as comprehension lit up Spencer's dark eyes. "When the trial was over, I was sent to my mother's uncle, in Washington State. He's a horticulturist, and I spent a lot of my free time hiking with him, looking for rare species of flowers. In the winter, we'd press some awesome specimen and work in his greenhouse." Kyle chuckled, "I was so quiet when I first moved there, so timid. I don't think he realised how much I loved those flowers, because they never made noise."

As she spoke, Spencer's mind was churning. He remembered the case mostly from a study he'd done on it while in University. Pederson, he remembered, had killed just over twenty women, and had been caught in the act of attempting to murder a young girl who had caught him while finishing her mother. She'd spent weeks in Intensive Care; he had tried to slice her throat. Spence sat back slightly, astounded that a girl who had watched a man who was often considered one of the most brutal serial killers in American history could become a part of the team that caught the bastard. "How do you do it?" He asked softly. Neither was paying attention to the youth reading his latest work; Spencer's gaze was set upon Kyle's face, and Kyle was staring just as determinedly into her glass.

The tension was broken at that moment by the waitress coming for their order. After she left, Kyle couldn't find a way to ignore the question. "If David Rossi hadn't shown up when he did, I'd be dead right now. So I think if I can just stop one little girl from being killed, all the hell was worth it.

Silence permeated the table until the food arrived. Kyle's head was swimming; this was usually the point where someone asked the question 'what was it like?' and she'd never been able to describe the nightmares that haunted her, or the memories of her mother's screams. _But no, _she thought, _he knows better than most the answer to THAT question. _She looked up from her Caesar to find Spencer had not yet touched his food. "Do I have dressing on my face?"

Spencer shook his head a little to clear it. "Sorry, my mind wandered." At Kyle's snort, he looked up. "What?"

"There's a big difference between your mind wandering, and someone else's. Did you solve world hunger on your journeys?"Kyle teased lightly, bemused when she watched him flush. "Oh, come on, I knew from my first _week_ here that you were smart. I may not have three PhD's to my name, but I'm not that dense."

"I know," Spencer murmured, and they finished the rest of the meal in silence. He held her jacket for her and led her back out to the car.

"You had better take me back to my bike, I don't really want to leave it over night," Kyle told him as he eased the car out of park.

"All right, you'll be all right by yourself?" Spencer asked.

Kyle laughed, "I've been driving a bike since I was fifteen, this one's just a little bigger."

Indeed, when he pulled up behind the monster, he didn't understand how she could climb up the thing. It sat high, with a great deal of chrome. Bikes weren't something he'd ever studied, but he knew enough to recognise the little insignia as the Harley-Davidson seal. "How do you drive that thing?" Spencer asked, swallowing.

Kyle laughed. "It's actually pretty easy, I'll have to give you a ride sometime."

Spencer had turned down numerous offers from Derek for a ride, and he'd thought that Kyle would be a little more responsible, but looking at her "toy" gave him major doubts. "I don't know," he stammered. "It doesn't look safe."

Kyle bent over in hysterics. "You can go into a house with a psychotic serial killer, but you won't ride my baby? You might want to rethink your priorities. I think it's time you live a little." She shook her head over his disagreement. "No 'buts'. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning and take you out for breakfast, since you wouldn't let me pay for supper." She threw on her helmet and grinned as she pulled down the visor. "I'll see you at eight."

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_A/N so there you have it! If you are Cedricsowner, I'm really glad to have you on board, and I hope you enjoy this first chapter!_


	2. Coffee and Chemistry

_Second chapter, and I've got some great reviews! Thanks so much! I'll get to the real story soon, but I really wanted to write a bit of fluffy character development first, it's just so much fun!_

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_She's not actually going to show up,_ was Spencer Reid's first thought that Saturday morning. _There is no way she'll actually come over; she doesn't even know where I live!_ He got up, and showered, dressed. Trying to convince himself he hadn't eaten yet because he wasn't hungry, and failing miserably at it, he fed Orpheus and let the parakeet out for a little while.

Nevertheless, the sound of the buzzer from the front door going off startled him. "Who is it?" he asked, holding on to his bird as he spoke into the microphone.

"Santa Claus."

He chuckled and buzzed her into the building. He'd barely put the bird away when he heard her knocking.

"This is a beautiful place," Kyle commented as she stepped inside. She smiled at the sight of nearly wall-to-wall bookshelves, which were overflowing onto the floor. Overstuffed wingbacks were scattered through the room, each with its own reading lamp. "It's so comfortable." She turned her attention to Spencer, and asked, "You ready to go?"

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When Kyle handed Spencer her second helmet, he looked at her curiously. "What is it?" Kyle inquired, as she strapped her own under her chin.

"Are you sure you know how to drive this thing safely?"

Kyle laughed at the tiny break in his voice, and threw a leg over the seat. "Get on, Dr. Reid."

Spencer clambered on behind her, and looked around. "Where do I hold on?" He half yelled, as Kyle kicked started the bike.

"My waist," came the muffled reply.

He was glad she couldn't see him blush. He put his hands tentatively around her upper-waist, and then nearly jumped out of his skin as she tightened his hold, bringing him nearly flush to her back. He was doing his best to barely touch her, until she took off and he was holding on for dear life. She pulled into the light morning traffic, and abruptly cut across two lanes of traffic, leaving Spencer's stomach back at the corner. She navigated her way through the streets to a small outdoor cafe. She pulled up, and shut the thunderous motor off, leaving an odd sort of silence.

"Hey...Spence?"

"Yeah?" he was still shaking from the ride from hell.

"You _can _let go now. I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine, but people might start looking at us funny."

Spencer regained ownership of his arms quickly, flushing slightly. He followed her up to the cafe, and they placed their orders. "Oh, and make that to go, please." Spencer looked at her funny. "What? It's a beautiful day, and there's a park right across the street."

Spencer nodded, and grabbed the food, ignoring Kyle's protests. He led her across the street, and they parked themselves at a bench that was drenched in the watery sunlight. He dug out the bagels they'd ordered. She'd carried the coffees, and just stared at him as he dumped three packets of sugar into his.

"That can't be healthy," she said, looking slightly disgusted.

Spencer smirked. "It's not. Sugar is actually the only taste humans are born craving."

"Well, I think I can live without it in my coffee." Kyle grabbed her bagel and started to dig in. They ate in silence for a while, just enjoying one of the last nice days of fall. Soon, it would get a little too chilly to enjoy breakfast outside.

"I think I'm going to miss the snow," Kyle commented rather sadly. "It was the best way to spend Christmas; all that white fluffiness, and spring seemed so fresh. But," She looked at Spencer. "I think working at the BAU is a pretty good compensation."

Spencer smiled. "Trust me, it does. Now, what kinds of things were on your list again? Maybe I can help you figure some places out to find some of it."

Kyle grinned appreciatively. "I don't really have a favourite type of style, but I enjoy earthy and oriental, most of my stuff is fairly eclectic. I know there are some furniture stores around here, but I don't know if any of them will hold what I'm looking for."

"Well, if you don't mind dragging me along, I'm pretty sure I could find some of the little places you wouldn't necessarily look for." Spencer felt a small jolt in his abdomen as her face light up. _It's just because she's thankful for your help_, he told himself sternly. "Just one condition," he continued. "I get to drive."

Kyle laughed at him, but agreed. "All right, good doctor," She said, tossing him his helmet. "Then let's get going."

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When Kyle finally got home that evening, she was nearly in tears from laughing. She's barely had the spare fingers to unlock her door, and Spencer came in behind her, equally laden. She'd gotten nearly everything on her list, and there were a few items (like her new La-Z-Boy and leather couch) that were going to be delivered the next day. She dumped her packages on her island and turned to face Spencer. "What is it?" she asked.

"I hadn't realised you were in such need of this stuff. This place is kind of bare," Spencer commented, then blushed when he realised what he'd said.

"Yeah, it's kind of depressing. When I was working in Liberty, the apartment came pre-furnished, and before that I was in a dorm room. I think it's high time I get to furnish my own place." She stuck her tongue out at a package that didn't want to be opened. "All I need now is an area rug."

Spencer smiled. "This is a lot bigger than my place. But then, you'll have more people in it than I do."

"Probably not. I'm not a social butterfly, I didn't really have many friends growing up," she grunted as the package finally opened. "I spent a lot of time with my adoptive father's flowers."

"Yeah," Spencer replied, distracted by a fine view as she put her CD collection into her new case. He shook his head and turned before she caught him. He helped her put away some new dishes, and as the afternoon drew to a close, found himself unwilling to leave.

"Well, I guess I'd better go," Spencer said slowly, unmoving from his spot in the kitchen.

"Yeah," Kyle replied, looking down at her hands.

_Come on, if you don't leave now, you won't at all._ Spencer gave himself a mental shake and reached for his jacket. "I'll see you Monday."

"Yep, have a good evening." Kyle stood at the door as he walked out.

Spencer snorted to himself. For once, he wasn't really looking forward to perusing his Philosophy textbooks. He turned to say goodbye as she was closing the door, and the afternoon light flooding her apartment made her even prettier than usual. He was shocked at the direction his thoughts wandered as he rode the elevator to the first floor. It seemed a cold shower would be in order.

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_A/N So what did you think? Let me know!_


	3. Flowers and Fatalities

_So I've got a new chapter! Go me! Sorry about the long wait, we are back on track! I won't be neglecting this ever again, I promise! On with the story!_

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When she got up Monday morning, Kyle still couldn't keep the silly smile off of her face. Sunday had been spent putting everything in place; which had taken much longer than it should have; she'd caught herself daydreaming often, something she hadn't done since she was 16. Either way, she'd see him again today, and she'd have to do her damndest to keep from showing her recent infatuation off to the rest of the team.

As the elevator let her off on her way to the bull-pen, she was nearly run over by Penelope, who grabbed her hand. "We've got a big one; we'd better get to the round table as fast as possible." She and Garcia were nearly the last to arrive in the room, followed shortly by a harried looking Hotchner.

"In the past three weeks, eight people have gone missing. All were found the next day with a single gunshot wound to their forehead." JJ put some pictures up on the screen. "Each were found posed with flowers between their hands, and no two had the same flowers."

"He's leaving them unmarked, and they're found well dressed and nicely arranged," Rossi observed from the back of the table. He pondered the pictures, and Morgan finished the thought.

"It could mean remorse."

"Hm, I'm finding the flowers interesting, each flower means something, if we can find the meaning, we can find out how they're connected," Prentiss put in, she was flipping through the glossies. "I wish I recognised all of these."

"Reid, do you know what all of these flowers represent?" Hotchner asked the young genius. He shook his head, and looked over at Valentine.

"Sir, I might be able to; my father was a horticulturist." She offered tentatively. He raised his dark eyes to her light ones, and scrutinized her carefully. He nodded once, and turned back to Reid. "You and Reid will work on the flower angle, I want Prentiss and Morgan working with the families, Rossi and I will talk to the local authorities. Plane lifts off in an hour."

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Valentine sat at the back of the plane, with a stack of pictures sitting in front of her, and a notepad on her lap. In her hand, was a small flower reference book she'd found in the airport on her way in. Reid sat across from her, totally silent. She glanced up, then made another note. "I've figured the first, third, and seventh flowers and what I _think_ is their meanings"

Reid looked at her, "what do you mean, you think?"

Valentine looked up at him. "Flowers mean different things for different people, but if this person is using what are generally accepted as the meanings of these flowers, I'm pretty positive what those messages were." She turned back to her papers and didn't look up again until the plane touched down.

When they arrived at the police station, she followed the rest into the conference room, and then walked over to the white board. She grabbed a marker and wrote:

**John Collins: Begonia (beware)  
Alicia Mitchell: Yellow Carnation (you have disappointed me; rejection)  
Linda Young: Snapdragon (deception; gracious lady)  
Max Nelson: Yellow Hyacinth (jealousy in regards to social status or popularity)  
Ron Taylor: Nasturtium (conquest; victory in battle)  
Jenny Brown: Yellow Lily (false and gay)  
Allen Parker: Tiger Lily (wealth, pride)  
Karen Miller: Orange Mock (deceit)**

"If the UnSub is using the accepted meanings of the flowers, these are the meanings that correspond with the victim." Kyle said, as she finished writing. "My guess is, considering what the flowers represent, revenge killings?"

"Quite possibly," Rossi replied. "The UnSub could be avenging things from his past, possibly all the way into his childhood."

Morgan pulled out his phone, and hit speed dial.

"Stone Henge, chief druid speaking." Came Garcia's bubbly voice over the phone.

"Hey, babe, I need you to get all the information you can on the victims; see if there are any connections that might help us find our UnSub." Morgan requested as he walked out to the SUV.

"Will do, sweet cheeks." Was the come-back before he hung up.

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Garcia's tapping on her keyboard nearly drowned out a slight knock on her door. "Come in," she called, not turning from her "babies".

"Hey, Penny," came a soft voice from the door. The owner obviously hadn't taken more than two steps into the room, and Penelope was grateful for his hesitancy at that moment.

"What do you want, Kevin?" Penelope sighed. Their break-up had been amiable enough, but that didn't mean she wanted him dropping in on her constantly.

Kevin's reply was slow in coming. "I, uh...just wanted to tell you, well, I'm moving. To London. I got offered a job as a tech for the Scotland Yard." He smiled at her at the end, his sad eyes hoping for something he hadn't seen in a while.

But the puppy love that had once held Garcia's eyes hadn't returned. She smiled softly; he'd mentioned the offered post once before, but had turned it down for her. "I'm glad for you," She commented softly. And she was; it meant he was moving on. She got up, and hugged him one last time, and watched him leave with her blessing.

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A couple of hours later, the team had just returned to the station to pool their information, and a call came in to Derrick's cell.

"Speak up, baby girl; I've got you on speaker phone." He told Garcia. He placed the phone on the table, and all the agents stared as their tech-goddess' voice issued out.

"Well, I just got the results. Alicia Mitchell, Max Nelson, Jenny Brown, and Allen Parker all went to the same high school, where Linda Young taught." Garcia's information was always valued, but she brought her own grain of salt to it. "But considering the population of Madison, it's not surprising."

Hotchner looked up at his team. "Reid, take Valentine and go check out this school. There may be old teachers or yearbooks that can tell us something."

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Across town, a young woman named Liza White walked into her house to find a large bouquet of Forsythias in her entryway.

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_A/N so there you have it. I'm sorry about no more fluff, and how short it is. Kudos and a cameo to who-ever figures out what the Forsythia represents :D_

_PLEASE REVIEW!!_


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